


Of Blood and Latex

by spacewifi



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Death, Disembowelment, Gen, Haddonfield (Halloween), Stabbing, it is what it is, technically not /reader but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24156028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacewifi/pseuds/spacewifi
Summary: Reader insert is a Survivor in Dead by Daylight and The Shapes obsession, unfortunately hes not running Save the Best for Last.
Relationships: Michael Myers/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Of Blood and Latex

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally the first thing for kinkterror (blood/gore) but I didn't finish that so take it for what it is.

Haddonfield always sent a cold jolt of fear down your spine as it seemed to materialise around you, the latest location of yet another trial on your unending life. It struck too close to the hazy memories of a life before, a quiet neighborhood with quiet people and little to no conflict besides missing pets or bad weather. That couldn't be further than what you faced now, being hunted and murdered at the whim of some sick deity that fed off your suffering. Haddonfield also always seemed to carry the heavy stare of its own personal boogeyman, The Shape. 

The heavy weight of the entity selecting you as the obsession for whoever happened to be doing its bidding wasn't lost on you, as it seemed to settle around your throat. You want to gasp for air, try to gain your breath or anything to counteract the feeling, but the (years? months? you had lost track of time what felt like an eternity ago) plenty of trials worth of experience had taught you better. You clench your fist and tried to harden your heart, you would at least make whoever was hunting you work for it. 

You quickly take up residence on your knees beside the main street, tinkering away at a generator to hurry you and your other survivors escape. You hadn't seen any of them yet, but you had always been a bit of a loner. You didn't communicate well, and tended to panic a bit too easily, you didn't really have any particularly aggressive skills and fleeing wasn't your forte. So in most instances you were better left alone to die. 

You're nearly finished with your generator when the unmistakable jingle of the Shapes Evil Within echoes around you. You break out into a cold sweat, fumbling your wires and stumbling back as sparks explode into your face. You bite your lower lip to steady yourself and try and calm your own pounding heart. A quick glance around doesn't give any signs that the killer is nearby so you continue your work, sweaty palms making the task seem exponentially more difficult than before. 

After waiting a few more seconds and no scream sounds, you relax a bit, glad whoever he might've been stalking got away. You power through the last little bit of your generator, unable to fight your triumphant grin as the lights above you flicker on. You should've known it wouldn't last. 

As you sprint into the home closest to your finished generator, the tell tale heartbeat of a killer closing in on you swallows up your own frantic heartbeat. You quickly duck behind an overturned couch, looking around frantically. The Shape still doesn't seem to be in sight, he has to be close though, for the pulse to be this loud. Staying in one place was never a smart choice though. Steeling yourself you stand and begin walking towards the door you just came through. Just as you reach the doorway you hear it, the rushing noise of someone vaulting from an upstairs window to the ground below, and the hard heavy sound of boots quickly clunking down the stairs to where you stand. 

Before you can even turn to run away you feel breathing down the back of your neck. You slowly turn your head, coming face to broad chest with the infamous Michael Myers, the Shape of Haddonfield. It seems your luck is up as the blank white mask leers down at you, the Entities cute little jingle for his Evil Within echoing around you deafeningly. Oh, shit.

Your legs tremble as he raises his blade, the red sheen reflecting off the glinting metal before he stops, head tilting slightly. Was he going to let you go? Save the best for last maybe? You couldn't help the little jolt that went through you at that. You would hate to see all your friends die to spare you, but you can't help the niggling little part of your heart that craves the thought of escape, a selfish little piece the Entity had infected you with that values your life over theirs. 

The Shape didn't hesitate any longer though, large hand lashing out to wrap around your throat, easily lifting you from the creaking wood floor, like your dead weight meant nothing to him. You bring your hands up to clutch at his wrist, airflow cut off entirely now as you dangle from his grip. You bite your tongue harshly, tasting copper even as you feel your lungs contract, panic overwhelming you in an instant.

You kick your legs fruitlessly as your nails dig into his flesh, blood beading up against your fingertips as his huge fingers tighten further. The dark holes that serve as his eyes are bottomless as time freezes for a moment, everything around you both absolutely still as your weak oxygen deprived body jerks helplessly in his iron grasp. Your thoughts are hazy as the seconds slide by like hours, your whole body going numb as your struggling dies down, eyes still locked onto that soulless gaze. 

The knife stabbing into your stomach shatters the illusion of peace and silence as a scream tears out of your throat, past even his firm unflinching hold. The noise forces all of your remaining air from your lungs forcing your eyes to finally break their gaze with the killer. God you wish the numbness would return, as searing pain lights up your torso, blood gushing from around the wound. The hand around your throat flexes and you can't help the way your tired eyes slowly meet his again. 

You're vaguely aware of the knife being pulled from the wound, followed by the wet sounds of your blood and flesh splattering to the wood floor below you. You think you hear the stalkers heavy breathing get heavier, but his body is still as hard as ever. The knife returns once and then twice more, the blood from your wounds soaking your shirt and down the front of your pants. Your hands fall uselessly to dangle at your sides, each new jab just forcing small shudders from your nearly unconscious body as blood forces its way up your crushed windpipe to wet your lips. 

Your vision begins to darken at the edges, different from the reddish burn of the Entity taking its piece. This was a kill for him. Your eyes are unfocused and dazed life dripping down from your mutilated gut, the steadily forming puddle beneath you 'pliping' with each drop of your essence lost. The last thing your consciousness catches is the frigid latex of a stark white mask smearing the cooling blood from your lips. 

The Entity calls for you, but you're not theirs tonight, not a meal for their sadistic pleasure, but at the mercy of one Man's dark twisted soul. You let your half lidded eyes slip shut as you sink into blissful, numb silence.


End file.
